


A Slow Fall To Insanity

by moonstalker24



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Groping, M/M, Partial Nudity, Steter Week, and wants to grab the butt, i wrote a groping fic, im so ashamED, peter has no shame, stiles is a giant idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:52:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstalker24/pseuds/moonstalker24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>aka: Boxers, Briefs or Boxer-briefs<br/>aka: The one in which Stiles tries not to touch the butt. Or the abs. But fails. Epically.</p>
<p>Or:<br/>iggycat on Tumblr wrote: Someone needs to write a ‘the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear’ AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Slow Fall To Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> iggycat on Tumblr wrote: Someone needs to write a ‘the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear’ AU
> 
> I saw it, I blame caseywolfe07 for causing it to come across my dash. I have no shame and I'm probably going to hell.

**A Slow Fall To Insanity**

 

_aka: Boxers, Briefs or Boxer-briefs_

_aka: The one in which Stiles tries not to touch the butt. Or the abs. But fails. Epically._

Stiles hasn't been living in the Oak Street building for very long. Just a couple of months, but it's been long enough to know that he's inherited some crazy neighbors along with the previous tenant's ficus.

There's Erica and Boyd, who live directly below Stiles. He's very quiet and frequently wears a beanie with _'Zamboni!'_ enthusiastically stitched onto it. Stiles is fairly certain that Erica did the embroidery herself and that's why Boyd wears it. You don't _not use_ things that Erica gives you. She gave Stiles a welcome to the building scarf, and then scared ten years off his life when she got very upset because she hadn't seen him wearing it.

Erica is terrifying.

She is not, however, as terrifying as Lydia and Jackson. They live in the penthouse two floors up and while Jackson might just be the douchiest douche to ever douche, Lydia is the kind of terrifying that comes alongside brains. She's a mathematician and teaches at the University. If her anger wasn't the pee-your-pants-terror kind then Stiles might fancy himself in love with her.

But she is, so he's not.

Isaac is a literal puppy. He lives with Scott and Allison next door. Now, Scott's Stiles' bro. They are brochachos. Scott got him the lease. Scott is the best thing ever. Scott's sex life, not so much. Isaac's puppy eyes of doom have induced Stiles to lending him his couch when Isaac sexiles himself because he doesn't want to listen to his roommates get it on anymore.

Danny is kickass, but the computer genius lives with the Twins, who are not. They live on the other side of Scott, Allison and Isaac and Stiles mostly just tries to never look either of them in the eyes.

Malia lives on the ground floor and has a blunt way about her that tells Stiles that he's on her team if the Zombie Apocalypse ever happens. He tries to endear himself to her because he knows that if it ever comes, Malia will kill anything and everything that tries to take anything she considers hers. Stiles is desperately trying to get her to _collect him_.

Then there's Derek. Broody, grumpy, scruffy, beautiful Derek. Who... lives in the basement.... and works as the building super. He's more likely to grunt and growl at you as talk to you, and that one time Stiles had to get him to come up and fix a leaky pipe, he threatened to rip Stiles' throat out. _With his teeth._

The point is, it could have been any of them who set the alarm off. Himself included (except, y'know, _it wasn't_ ). From Lydia and Jackson having another fight to Malia getting sick of all the petty mortals.

So Stiles is standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the firemen to give the all clear as he bounces from foot to foot trying to ward off the cold. It's absolutely freezing. Stiles is barefoot, in flannel pants and a hoodie. He's trying valiantly not to stare.

Really, he is.

But... butt.

It's right there. It's so beautiful. Stiles has been admiring that rear end since the day he moved in. He's also been admiring the rest of his next door neighbor, but right now Stiles doesn't care because said neighbor is clad solely in a pair of soft blue boxer-briefs and that butt is just stunning.

Stiles clenches his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to touch.

It's 3 am, he's sleep deprived and the most beautiful human being he's ever seen is standing in front of him fighting with the buttons on a shirt.

"Who do you think it was?"

Stiles can't decide whether or not to praise Scott or curse him, because the question makes Peter turn around as he shoves his arms into the sleeves of the shirt and suddenly Stiles' eyes are riveted on a set of sturdy, lickable abs. They're not super defined like Derek's, but they are the kind that develop from genuine work and hard labor.

He tries valiantly not to look lower.

It doesn't work, but he gives himself a solid ‘A’ for effort anyway.

It doesn't help that Peter apparently has no shame at all because he doesn't bother buttoning up the shirt and now Stiles has to stand there wishing he wasn’t imagining ripping that shirt off the man he’s basically been panting after since he moved in.

“Kate.” Peter says it like it tastes bad.

Everyone nods in agreement. Kate is creepy. Like psycho, murder you and hide you in the walls creepy. She also likes fire. Everyone, including her niece, kinda hate that she lives in the building. She’s not exactly the kind of person you take home to meet the parents.

Stiles bounces on his toes, mostly because he’s starting to lose feeling in them, but also to distract himself. Peter turns back around and Stiles can feel every muscle in his body lock up at the sight of those broad, tapered shoulders.

The underwear is hiding nothing.

He almost makes it. Five more seconds and he would have been in the clear. But no. No, the firemen just had to be _thorough_ didn't they?

Stiles caves right as the guy is saying the all clear. He reaches out.

Suddenly he’s looking into a pair of blue, blue eyes as Peter turns to stare at him. Stiles should let go, but he’s finally got his hands on that firm, perfect butt and his hand is frozen in place.

Peter’s eyebrows are making their way upward and a slow smirk is curving his lips “Why Stiles, I do declare…”

Stiles swallows with an audible click and tries to get his hand to let go. Instead, he squeezes the handful of ass he’s got and his mouth talks without his permission: “You should be illegal.”

“I am. In forty-seven states” Peter tells him calmly. The older man steps a little closer and Stiles is suddenly very aware of the darkened shade of Peter’s eyes.

“Yeah?” Stiles asks in return. “What about this one?”

Peter’s smirk turns lascivious, “Not quite yet. Want to help me make it forty-eight?”

Stiles’ mind goes blank. By the time he’s sufficiently rebooted Peter is twenty feet away and heading up the front steps of their building. Stiles finishes rebooting and he darts forward up the stairs into the building.

He slips into the elevator as the doors begin the close and tries to be smooth about it, but it mostly comes off as clumsy. There are a couple of snorts and a pair of blue eyes watching him with a challenge in them.

Challenge accepted.

Stiles wedges himself between Isaac and Peter, and molds himself to Peter’s back, perching his chin on the other man’s shoulder and pulling the two sides of his shirt closed so that it covers the front of the man’s underwear.

That, Stiles decides, is not for other people to see.

He can feel Peter’s amusement in the vibration of his back as he contains a chuckle. Stiles can’t resist sliding one thumb across the bare abs underneath it, back and forth.

The elevator dings and they get off and head down the hallway.

Peter pulls Stiles into his own apartment behind him, and Isaac knows he’s on his own for the rest of the night.

  
_.fin._


End file.
